//------------------------------// // [Removed chapter 26] Long Walk Home. // Story: Tears of a Foal // by Rocinante //------------------------------// - - - ch 25 - - - “What’s he dreaming about?” Celestia asked, watching Clover giggle and twitch in has sleep. It was almost enough to make her forget the sterile room with its beeping machines and dripping IV bags. Almost. Luna closed her eyes for a moment. “A flying dream.” Looking to the jar by the bed, Celestia picked it up with her magic to examine the green glowing stuff. “They said this would cure him?” “No, they said it would give him the tools to fight.” There was something in her sister’s voice that scared her. “What are you not telling me?” “His illness has let me into his dreams. I do not feel it is my place to say what I have seen, but I will say he is has been tried, and is weaker for it. He welcomes death.” Somehow those words managed to relax her. “I have walked many ponies out of that dark place.” “You have failed too.” Luna’s voice was flat and lifeless Celestin nodded. “I have failed at many things. Another one today.” Turning up the jar, she let a few drops of the goo land on her hoof. “We could have peace between ponies and changelings today, but now a generation must pay for my poor judgment.” “Careful with that stuff, it is powerful,” Luna said stepping closer to rub necks. “I need to go speak with the doctor, before that vain on his neck ruptures. Then I must see to the night court.” “Thank you.” Celestia pulled Luna into a hug before letting her leave for the night. As the door closed behind Luna, Celestia looked back at the changling spoo on her hoof. Clover had drank several ounces of the stuff according to Luna. She wanted to know just what kind of magic had fortified Clover. Putting her hoof to her lips, Celestia took a lick. She wanted more, even before the sweeter-than-honey taste fully registered to her. An act of will forced her to set the jar aside, and focus on the magic storming into her body. Everything felt warm. Everything felt right. Her whole body buzzed with comfort. Forcing herself to stay focused, Celestia studied the sensation. It reminded her of her mother’s embrace. She knew her magic had been bolstered too, though by only a tiny amount. She dared not light her horn, knowing it would drain the wonderful feeling from her faster. Clover turned and mumbled in his sleep, reaching out blindly towards her. Sitting in the chair by the bed, Celestia rested her chest and head on the bed with Clover, who eagerly snuggled into her mane. Closing her eyes, she listened to Clover’s breath. - - - A warm summer breeze woke Celestia from her nap in the grass. Easing to her hooves she scraped the sleep from her eyes, and looked around. Her mother’s shining smile greeted her from beneath a rowan tree. Trotting over, she rubbed necks with her mother, then paused to rest a hoof on her mother’s belly. “I bet It’ll be a filly.” she said, smiling up at her mother. “We’ll find out very soon. I was about to wake you. Go get your father. He’s collecting mushrooms in the forest. You’ll have a brother or sister by night fall.” Celestia grinned ear to ear before nodding and bolting off down the hill. Across field she ran, over hedge she lept, and through creek she stormed; till the shade of the forest loomed over her. She knew the trails well enough, and she certainly knew her father’s favorite places to sniff out juicy mushrooms. Slowing to a trot, she meandered the forest paths, scanning the dark places for signs of her father. Somewhere past the split in the trail, flute song reached her ears. Continuing down the path, she swiveled her ears to hear it better. It was a bittersweet tune, and she wondered who could be playing it. When the path split again, she followed the sound: perhaps they had seen Father. Soon she found herself at the edge of a clearing atop the hill. The summer haze was light today, and the sky bright and blue. In the distance the glimmering ocean stretched on forever. Stepping into the sun, Celestia smiled as it warmed her back. Looking around, she searched for the musician. She found him by a cooking fire, a young, handsome stallion playing his flute while staring out towards the sea. Beside him, strange things lay strewn about. Stepping closer, she knew them to be tools of war: barding, spear, and ballista. Strangers were rare enough, but this frightened her. She started to bolt back into the woods, but paused. She may not have her mark yet, but she was no foal. “Why are you here?” she asked, raising her voice above the flute. The music stopped, and slowly turned to face her. He had smiling eyes, but his muzzle held a melancholy look. “I am just a soldier going home.” “You're a soldier?” Celestia asked, memorising his face to tell the others. He shrugged. “I was, but not by my choosing.” Celestia relaxed a bit. “You were forced to fight?” “It was expected of me. Saying no didn’t seem an option.” “That’s horrible!” Celestia stepped closer to the handsome stallion, suddenly feeling sorry for him. “It’s over now,” he said, tending to some food roasting over the fire. “Besides, I have a family waiting for me now.” He looked up at her and grinned. “Can’t let my brother get in trouble alone.” Celestia jolted, reminded of her mother’s task. “I wish you the best of luck getting home, but I must go find my father now.” Waving goodbye, she ran back into the forest. Soft music again echoed behind her, as she searched the familiar coves for her father. - - - Gentle petting of her mane pulled Celestia from her dream. The sounds and smells of the hospital reminding her of where she had fallen asleep. The room was dim, and sunrise was many hours away. “Luna?” she mumbled, expecting that her sister had woken her to get her into a bed. “You were dreaming,” Clover said. Sitting up, she found that Clover had managed to braid a lock of her mane from ear to wither. “It was a nice dream, about when I was just a little older than you are now.” “Did you find your father?” Celestia laughed, it had been a long time since anypony had caught her talking in her sleep. “I did. He had found a patch of morels where the forest had burned the year before.” “What happened to him?” Clover’s expression was oddly serious. Sitting down, Celestia started to undo the braid with her magic, but decided to leave it. “He was killed a few years after Luna was born. She never really got to know him.” “There are a lot of ponies I never got to really know,” Clover said. Celestia rested a hoof on Clover. This was the first time he had ever mentioned his life from before. “You can talk to me about them, if you want.” Clover’s expression went melancholy. “I have forgotten about them. Just remember little bits.” “Believe it or not, I know how much it hurts to admit that.” Clover seemed to take some assurance from her words, and lay there staring at the ceiling for a moment. She had thought him asleep, when a low growl came from his stomach. “I’m really hungry.” Celestia let herself smile, that wasn’t an idle complaint, that was asking to be fed. “I’ll get you anything you want.” A smile crept across Clover’s face as he opened his eyes to look up at her. “Can I get some grilled cheese and tomato soup?” “I’ll make it myself.” - - - x - - - “He wants to eat, that’s a good sign,” Dragonfly thought to Ladybug. “I told you Spike was a good big brother.” Dragonfly sighed as he cleaned out his mop. “You younglings are so strange.” Ladybug picked up Clover’s file and studied the notes for a moment. “Just because we store the love as food, doesn't mean we can’t love back as much as we are loved.” “What do the notes say?” Slopping the mop onto the floor, Dragonfly continued cleaning. Tomorrow was really going to suck, he had a business convention to host for the baker’s guild. “His vitals have improved. As long as he eats and rests, he should make a full recovery.” Dragonfly smiled. “Good. Rumors have to start somewhere.”